


Trouble with 'No.'

by junko



Series: Sixty-Nine Shades of Gray [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Light Dom/sub, Light Sadism, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji has no idea how he gets talked into this stuff.  But sometimes he wishes he knew how to say ‘no.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble with 'No.'

Renji looked down at what the host club’s manager handed him with a mixture of horror and… intrigue, “A whip?”

Perched on the edge of her desk with her legs crossed, she smiled up at him with faux innocence. She had the lights in her office turned up just high enough to catch the sequins on her tight fitting kimono, but low enough to hide the age lines on her face. “Just try it. You might like it. Anyway, I know someone who can train you to use it properly, so you can wield it with exquisite precision.”

Something about that idea or the way she said it thrilled Renji a little. Still, he shook his head and started to hand the coiled leather back, “Yeah, but see how I don’t really think this is my sort of thing….”

She curled his fingers back around it, and gently pushed it toward his chest. “Actually, that’s just it, sweetie. It’s totally you! The crude scandalous thing works pretty well, but I have a list the length of my arm of people interested in something …rougher, more dangerous from our Inuzuri boy.” He started to open his mouth to protest, and she repeated, “A list, Renji-honey! That’s money lying on the ground. Are you saying you’re not willing to pick it up?”

#

 

Kira was shaking his head at him as usual. “How do you get talked into this stuff?”

Renji stared, bleary-eyed at his breakfast—or, given the hour, was it lunch? He took a big scoop of nattō and rice on his chopsticks and shoveled it into his mouth. They were sitting out on the apartment’s narrow balcony, a tray between them. There was barely enough room for Renji’s legs, and his back pressed against the railings. He wore a brand-new flowered robe—a gift from a ‘client’--and his hair was pulled back with a tie, and he had a scarf around his head to keep the sweat from his eyes.

Because, even though summer had only just started, it was already far too hot to consider eating indoors. Anyway, thanks to how high up they were, the view was spectacular—tiled roofs of the First District spread out in every direction. Despite the rising humidity, air smelled fresh and clean. Renji sniffed it in deeply, thinking how very different it was from the dust and rot of Inuzuri.

In answer to Kira’s question, however, Renji just shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just easy, I guess. Anyway, she called me ‘Renji-kun.’ Nobody does that. Ever. Maybe I was flattered, okay? Who knows?” He tipped the bowl back and drank the rest in one big swallow. He set it down on the tray, and looked for something more, “Turns out, she was right. I have mad skills with a whip.”

Kira glanced at him over his bowl of tea with a raise of disbelieving eyebrows. His bright blond hair was still curled slightly from the heat and night before. Renji found it distracting. Somehow the girl-Kira’s hair was on the boy-Kira’s body. “Let me get this straight.” Kira said. “All the boss had to do was give you a cute pet name and you became the club’s resident dom?”

Renji grunted, not having a better response. It was true enough, he supposed. Though, it sounded so much worse out loud than it was in reality. It wasn’t like he was abusing anyone. They asked for it--literally. And, he was damn good at it, too. No one got truly hurt—except in all the ways they liked.

As a bonus, sometimes they were _really_ grateful afterwards.

“Ugh, that smile! You’re so gross,” Kira shook his head some more, and then asked, “So… that’s all it takes to talk you into something outrageous, huh? Does that mean if I call you Renji-sweetie, you’ll take out the garbage?”

“It’s not even half-full,” he grumbled around a mouthful of pickles.

“You said that three days ago.”

Renji bristled. “When did it become my job, anyway?”

“When I started doing all the cooking and cleaning.”

“Fine,” Renji said, snagging the last bit of fish with his chopsticks. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Kira sighed again. His frown deepened when he lifted the lid of a basket to discover the _tsukemono_ already gone. He set the cover back dejectedly. “Well, at least with all these extra ‘dates’ keeping you out all night, you should be able to start paying your fair share of the rent _finally_.”

Renji scratched the back of his neck. The thing was, he’d had to pay for the training he’d gotten, so, despite this influx of extra work, he was still in debt to the club, “Uh, yeah, about that—“

Kira held up a hand, and bowed his head in defeat. “Worst. Roommate. Ever.”

 

#

Kira’s last comment spurred Renji to take out the garbage after all, and he even did his best to clean the apartment before they headed out for work. The problem was that, in his mind, Kira’s standards were way too… anal.

Still, Kira had been incredibly generous to offer to share his place and help find Renji a job. So Renji gave it his best effort in hopes of appeasing Kira a little. They seemed to be friends again by the time the first shift started.

Watching Kira flirt outrageously at a nearby table, Renji smiled in appreciation. Renji realized some time ago that he liked girl-Kira better. What was annoying on a boy was kind of endearing on a girl. Somehow the nagging seemed more like teasing encouragement when girl-Kira did it. It was tempting to tell Kira that if he really wanted Renji to do more around the apartment, he should dress up in his club costume and bat those gorgeous baby blues.

Kira glared at Renji from behind his fan. “Stop looking at me like that,” he said, as he came to the bar get another round of drinks. “You’re making my guest jealous.”

Renji had been stuck playing bartender a lot lately since most of his ‘guests’ didn’t really want to talk to their favorite so much as order him for later. “Sorry,” Renji said, as he replaced the empty sake bottle with one from behind the counter. “You look especially good tonight, is all.”

Kira was shaking his head at Renji again. “Don’t even go there.”

Renji had no response other than a little grimace of acknowledgement. He didn’t really want Kira that way, anyway. Well… maybe if he really _was_ a girl.

Much later, he was wiping down the bar and still making up perverted fantasies in his head about girl-Kira, when the host club manager tugged him on his sleeve. “You’ve got a live one, Renji-kun. Someone actually wants to talk to you.”

Following where she glanced, Renji’s heart almost stopped cold. It was Shūhei Hisagi.

 

#

Renji leaned back, his arms resting against the cushions, and sighed. Twenty minutes and three bowls of sake and Shūhei _still_ wasn’t talking. In fact, he’d really only looked at Renji once, in a kind of horrified fascination when Renji came over with a smile and a bottle.

Either Renji was really horny or Shūhei looked especially sexy tonight, too. Apparently, during the summer, he trained with the Thirteen Court Guard because had on the uniform of a shinigami with a few personalized alterations. Renji had to say, Shūhei totally rocked the sleeveless look. The addition of leather armbands really drew the eye to those hard, sculpted biceps too.

_Yum._

If Renji wasn’t careful, he was going to start drooling.

But, it was maddening how… _stoic_ Shūhei was. Renji was sitting there, half-falling out of his kimono, and Shūhei wasn’t even ogling him back.

“Oi,” Renji said finally, rapping Shūhei on a shoulder lightly with his knuckles, “how drunk do you have to be before you’ll say something?”

“This was a mistake,” Shūhei said quietly.

Renji half-expected him to get up and leave. When he didn’t, Renji chuckled a little. Maybe Shūhei just needed a little encouragement after all. “Okay, technically, that’s _something_. But I was hoping for friendlier conversation. Like, ‘Whoa, Renji, you look smoking hot with your hair down and in that outfit. Who knew you had so many tattoos? Damn, I’d like to see where all those go, and, I wonder, are you a _natural_ red-head….’”

Shūhei eyes snapped up in a sharp glare at Renji’s imaginary dialogue. Though Renji noticed his gaze did linger on the ink visible through the folds of Renji’s shirt before returning to stare morosely at his sake bowl.

It didn’t take much to encourage Renji. He leaned in and put his elbows on the table. His nose was inches from Shūhei’s ear. “I am. One-hundred percent. And, the tattoos? They go _all_ the way down,” he offered in a whisper that was sure to tickle. “I’ve even got one on my ass.”

Shūhei suddenly seemed to be having trouble breathing, as his chest heaved with short gasps.

Renji let his smile grow wicked. Though too much physical stuff was against the rules inside the club, Renji bit the lobe of Shūhei’s ear lightly, playfully. “You know you want to see,” he rumbled lowly, “all you have to do is ask.”

_And pay_ , but Renji left off that bit for now.

For his part, Shūhei appeared completely frozen, though his eyes were wide where they stared into his lap.

Renji leaned back, giving the poor guy a chance to breathe. But, he couldn’t help but reach out a hand to twirl the spikes of Shūhei’s jet black hair that stuck out over his ear. Renji was surprised to find them softer than he expected, more silken. How did he keep them up like that? Sheer force of will?

“You know, if you want a little pre-show, there’s a private booth over there,” Renji said, jerking his head in the direction of a curtained alcove. “I’m not really supposed to take off much more than this, but… well, I guess I’m feeling a little naughty. The question is: are you?”

Renji waited. He realized he might have just pushed super-shy-Shūhei over the edge. He could easily bolt like a rabbit for the exit after a come-on like that. So when Shūhei got up, Renji felt his heart drop, disappointed.

That was, until Shūhei slowly walked over to where Renji had indicated.

After a moment of stupidly tracking Shūhei’s progress, his mouth hanging open in shock, Renji scrambled to his feet and bounded after him. The second Shūhei was inside Renji closed the curtain behind them with a snap. There were cushions on the floor behind them, and a tiny lantern that illuminated the little semi-circular room with dim light.

Shūhei had stopped short and turned, as though reconsidering. So they now stood face-to-face, inches apart. Renji blocked the door; he wasn’t letting Shūhei get away now, not when they’d come this far. He clutched the curtain closed behind him. Their bodies were near enough that spiky hair poked Renji in the nose. He had to hold himself back from burying his face in it, breathing in the wild smell of this man--so musky, so masculine.

“You’re growling,” Shūhei noted, somewhat breathlessly.

“Of course I am. You’re so fucking hot, what do you expect?”

He put a hand on Renji’s chest, in the spot where the kimono hung loosely open, and just over where Renji’s heart pounded with excitement. Shūhei looked up with something new in those usually calm, gray eyes. They sparkled with a kind of hunger. “I expect you to show me what I came here for.”

Wow. Shūhei was even hotter when he found his voice. Who knew he could issue commands like that? “Mmmm,” Renji purred, dipping his head to Shūhei’s ear again, “Make me.”

A blush colored the bridge of Shūhei’s nose, but he didn’t hesitate. His other hand found its way to Renji’s chest. Then, slowly, they moved up to shoulders and spread the fabric of the kimono wide.

Renji kept his hands behind him, holding on to the curtains with whitening knuckles. It was his turn to forget how to breathe, loving the sensation of palms, calloused from sword practice, running over his naked skin. He had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from groaning. He let his head tilt back, and he closed his eyes. Hands trailed down his shoulders, bringing down silk, until his entire upper body was revealed. Even though the little room was stuffy and hot, Renji’s nipples stiffed at the exposure.

“Oh,” Renji said looking down at himself when the kimono was hunging down at his waist, and shook his head as though he was annoyed or disappointed. Finally, he let go of the curtains and pulled his arms though the sleeves. “Now look at what you’ve done. I’m going to get in so much trouble. You’re a bad, bad boy, Shūhei.”

Shūhei’s hands had returned to Renji’s chest. His fingers started to trace the lines across his pectorals. Renji grabbed his hand. “No more touching,” he said, wagging a finger in mock admonishment. “You’re way over the limit, pal. If you want to do more of that, you’re going to have to take me home with you.”

“I can’t touch?”The little-boy disappointment in Shūhei’s voice made Renji smile lightly.

“Not here,” Renji said gently, bringing Shūhei’s fingers up to his mouth for a soft kiss before letting them go. “Too much of that and we’d lose our license. This is a host club, not a brothel.”

“Oh.”

Renji’s smile was curious. What had Shūhei been hoping for? A quickie behind the curtains? That seemed a little bold for such a bashful guy. But maybe that was it, perhaps the idea of having to take Renji somewhere else was too much like a real date for clearly-in-the-closet Shūhei. Luckily, there were plenty of other options.

“Aw, stop looking like that. You’re breaking my heart,” Renji said. “I’m sure there’s something we can do that will satisfy you. At least let me kiss you again. I’ve been thinking about that night for months.”

“You have?”

Though it was the sort of thing Renji would say to butter up a client, in this case it was true. Sometimes, especially now that classes were over, he’d lie on his mattress late at night and remember the feel of Shūhei’s thin lips, imagine what it would be like to run his fingers down the scars on his face.

Now was his chance. He might never get another one.

Renji softly touched the scars on Shūhei’s face with the back of his hand. _So rough and broken._ Renji was overwhelmed by a desire to fix him, make it better. He dipped his head and caught Shūhei’s lips with his. He gently nudged at Shūhei’s lips until Shūhei pressed back, thrusting his tongue in, hungrily.

Oh, yeah. Just as good as he remembered.

There was something that happened to Renji’s stomach whenever Shūhei pressed against him like that. It was a strange quivering, full of a yearning—to let go, let someone else lead once. He wanted to… melt into the other man’s capable arms.

It was the girliest feeling _ever_.

“Yeah,” Renji whispered, once Shūhei pulled away. His eyes still closed, he smiled. “That’s it. That’s what I remember. Do it again.”

For a long moment Renji wondered if he’d be left standing there like an idiot with his eyes closed, hopeful. Then, tentatively, he felt lips brush against his. Too uncertain this time, though. Renji put his hands on either side of Shūhei’s face, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. Luckily, Shūhei responded, his hands slipping around Renji’s waist, grasping him tight.

Nice.

Yes, more, please.

Too soon Shūhei pulled away again. He was breathing hard. His eyes focused on Renji’s chest.

He leaned in to Shūhei’s ear again. “I really wanted to show you my ink that night, you know.”

“You sure have a lot of it,” Shūhei seemed to have trouble looking at Renji’s face.

“Heh, there’s more. Did you even see the back?” Renji twisted so Shūhei could take a look. Renji felt curious fingers touch lightly before pulling back guiltily.

“I thought you said you weren’t yakuza.”

“I’m not. Never have been, but I can play that game if you like. Lots of—“ Renji stopped himself before saying ‘guests’ or ‘clients’ did. He switched direction, “That can be lots of fun.”

“Oh?” Shūhei eyes still roamed along the contours of Renji’s upper body. “How does that go?”

“Well,” Renji twirled some of Shūhei’s hair in his fingers. “It depends. Do you feel in the need of discipline?” At that he gave Shūhei’s hair a hard pull. “I could be a very angry and perverted mafia boss. You could owe me _a lot_. I could make you pay in all sorts of ways.”

“Uhn.”

Renji laughed lightly, though with a wicked edge. He seemed to have stunned poor Shūhei again. Of course, that just spurred him onward. “You know… turns out I have a hidden talent with a whip. You think you might like paying what you owe in tears?”

Shūhei’s eyes jumped up and Renji saw the answer there.

“Yeah, okay,” Renji said.  He shrugged back into his kimono. He grabbed Shūhei by the front of his kisode roughly. He gave up smoothing out the edges and let his Inuzuri accent harden the vowels in his next words, “You’re coming with me, punk. No more arguments.”

Renji slashed the curtain aside and, using all his strength, tossed Shūhei out into the main room. Despite having more skill and experience, Shūhei’s surprise at this sudden turn of events made him stumble into an empty table. Renji took advantage of his disorientation, and grabbed Shūhei’s shirt again and hauled them toward the door that led to the upstairs rooms. He caught the manager’s eye and gestured at a certain item on the menu posted on the wall. She nodded, completely unfazed by the violence; she’d seen this set up before.

No matter how many times it happened, Kira always acted a little shocked. His eyes widened even further, however, and he ducked behind his fan when he recognized Shūhei. When Renji noticed Kira clutch at his guest as if looking for a strong arm to protect him, Renji felt the weirdest stab of jealousy.

No, it was a stupid way to feel. That’s not what anyone ever wanted from him. Not even Shūhei.

At the stairs, Renji shoved Shūhei in front of him. He took the coiled leather from its spot on the wall. Later, the manager would see it had been removed and charge Shūhei’s bill accordingly.

Of course, she preferred if they went elsewhere for this sort of fun. Renji hadn’t lied about that. She really could lose her license if the local authorities caught wind of this kind of activity happening on the premises. However, she’d carefully set up a few legal loopholes. The upstairs were leased to a separate business--one that very carefully greased all the right palms inside and outside of the Seireitei .

Ironically, once they crossed the threshold to the back way, Renji really sort of _was_ working for the mafia.

When Shūhei hesitated, Renji uncoiled the whip and let it snap inches above Shūhei’s shoulder. “Move it,” Renji growled.

But as Shūhei scurried up the rest of the stairs, Renji coiled the whip back up and stuck it into his obi. He vaulted the rest of the way up and grabbed the back of Shūhei’s neck and directed him to the right door. But, before going in, he spun him around and slammed him up against the wall. With his hand on either shoulder, Renji leaned in close.

Renji let his accent soften and spoke politely where he knew how. He nuzzled close to Shūhei’s ear again, and kept his voice low so not to spoil the moment, “This is a game, so it has rules. Lucky for you, there’s only two, so you don’t got to remember much. First, you get to opt out at any time, for any reason. You never have to say why, there’s no judging. Whenever you’re done playing, you only have to say so. Except, sometimes it’s part of the fun to say ‘no’ and get denied, right? So it has to be something different, something special. Usually, you get to pick, but I’ve decided. When you want to quit, you say: ‘Kiss me.’ You can say it once, now, if you want, so I know you understand. Next time, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, I’ll stop and the game is over.”

Shūhei nodded, even though his body was trembling under Renji’s grasp. His voice was husky, “‘Kiss me,’ got it. What’s the other rule?”

Renji pulled back a little catch Shūhei’s gaze. His eyes were downcast, so Renji put a finger under his chin and lifted lightly. When he looked up, Renji continued, “This one is important, and sometimes the hardest to understand. The second rule is this: I don’t care how into it you are, I stop at first blood. We can keep playing as long as you like, but the toys go away. You can make begging for it part of the game, but understand this: I’m done and it’s not coming back no matter what you promise or how many tears you shed. Believe me, I can make you suffer without it, so you don’t have to worry about the fun being over too soon. But that’s how it goes, no exceptions. First rule is for you; second is for me. If you don’t like it, you know how to quit right now.”

“Am I allowed to heal myself with reistsu?”

Renji was taken aback for a moment. He’d gotten this question before, but it surprised him that Shūhei thought to ask it. He dropped his hand and put on his rougher persona. Renji lifted Shūhei off the wall just enough to slam him back into it: “What? No, shinigami, you do not. You can try to resist me with it, but first blood is first blood. No cheating with your fucking Court Guard magic. Got it, asshole?”

Shūhei’s nod was slight, but it was good enough for Renji. Besides, the game had started. It didn’t really matter anymore if Shūhei agreed or not, not until he asked for a kiss.

Renji reached beside Shūhei and shoved open the door. “Now get in there, and get on your knees.”

#

 

Renji kind of always regretted that _his_ only safe word was to hit harder. But, no matter how much fun it could be at times, this wasn’t _for_ him.

It was a job.

The weirdest fucking job he’d ever had, but that’s what it was: work. Especially with stupid shinigami and their magically rock hard skin--Shūhei wasn’t the only one who was going to be sore in the morning, at this rate.

Thus, Renji was strangely grateful when Shūhei finally gasped, “Kiss me.”

Renji dropped the act and everything else, and did just that—slow and sweet. As soon as he could, Shūhei put his arms around Renji and clung against him, panting and sobbing. Renji just held him silently, stroking his hair gently, placing soft kisses on the top of his head. Renji desperately tried not to hold on too hard, making sure that Shūhei felt free to pull away and go.

This part was the hardest.

Renji had to bite his lip to keep from apologizing, begging for forgiveness. He had to keep reminding himself this was a game, this was what was wanted, desired— _paid for_. Taking that back or breaking the spell would be a breach of contract.

But this wasn’t exactly how Renji had hoped their first time together would go. And, if Shūhei was anything like the others, now that he’d had a taste for it, this would be all they’d ever have. New variations of the same game, but always ending like this, in tears…

…and regrets.

“That was amazing,” Shūhei breathed into Renji’s chest.

“Sure,” Renji agreed, trying to keep the hollowness from his voice. But he was too tired to fake enthusiasm, “Best ever. Can’t wait to do it again, and now you know where to come for seconds.”

Shūhei lifted his head and looked into Renji’s face. “So… you wouldn’t... somewhere else?”

Renji had to look away. Luckily, he had an answer for this question rehearsed. “Sorry. I’ll only play where I know the rules. This particular game always starts here.” Normally that was all he’d say, but this was Shūhei, so Renji found himself adding, “But, if you ever want something else—yeah, I would.”

“Mmmm,” Shūhei set his head back down, his cheek pressed close to Renji’s heart. “Good.”

At some point Shūhei’s heavy breathing turned to contented snores. Even though they were in an awkward position on the floor, Renji just kept holding him. He felt a little guilty knowing that Shūhei would end up being charged for staying the whole night. Still, Renji refused move a muscle, for fear of waking this sleeping beauty. Renji just wanted to feel Shūhei cuddled up in his arms, pressed close--their skin touching, their scents and reistsu mingling.

At one point, when the sun was just starting to rise, the door slid open lightly. The manager peeked in and Renji waved her off. She gestured franticly, but he flipped her off.

Fuck the rules, he liked this part.

She put two fingers up in the air to indicate they had two more hours before Shūhei was going to get billed for another day. She shut the door firmly.

Fine. His back was stiff anyway. “Hey, Shūhei,” Renji nuzzled his nose in Shūhei’s hair, breathing in the smell of his sweat and spent passion. Renji tried to commit the odor to memory, in case Shūhei woke up with too much shame or whatever and never came back. “Don’t you have a division to get back to, shinigami?”

“Huh? What time is it? Oh, shit!”

So began all the frantic finding of clothes and rushed embarrassment. Renji just stayed out of his way, but he made sure there was no sneaking out the window. It was surprising how many people tried that, though Renji was pretty sure half the time it wasn’t so much an instinct to dodge payment so much as a sense of morning-after guilt that made people go for it. When he saw Shūhei considering it, Renji sat himself down on the sill and pointed at the door. “Sorry, but you got to go out the front. You’ve got a tab to settle.”

“What?”

“Go on,” Renji said gently, though he found he had to look at the floor. “She’s got it all tallied up for you. Don’t forget our waiter. Tips are always appreciated.”

Renji could sense the dawning realization in the hesitation. “Oh,” Shūhei said finally. “Right.”

“Right,” Renji nodded in sad agreement, starring at the floor. _Yep, this wasn’t what you thought it was. It really was only a game, pretend._

Renji was so focused on not looking, not watching Shūhei leave, that Renji was surprised to find Shūhei standing in front of him suddenly. “Hey,” Shūhei said. “‘Kiss me’.”

Sitting as he was on the window sill, Renji looked up into gray, smiling eyes. Shūhei softly tucked a stray strand of Renji’s hair to the side, and then leaned down to kiss him.

There it was again.

With his head tilted back, his mouth open and eager, his eyes closed and lashes trembling, the feeling returned to Renji—the one that wanted to just flutter uselessly and dissolve into a puddle.

It took his damn breath away.

Stole it completley. Shūhei’s kiss ripped the air right from Renji’s lungs, leaving him utterly emptied—aching.

It almost hurt, like the sting of the lash, when Shūhei pulled away. Renji kept his eyes closed, afraid they might actually be wet with tears. “Go,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But I can’t watch you leave. I’m just going to sit for a little while and pretend you’re still here with me.”

Soft kisses graced Renji’s eyes, heartbreakingly sweet. Then came the awful sound of feet on tatami and the whisper of the door shutting.

_Damn it all._

#

 

Much later, Renji made his way down. The manager was all smiles and congratulations, “An _officer_ , Renji-kun! You lucky boy, you. They make good wages.”

“He’s still a cadet,” Renji muttered, trying to shake her off so he could just get home and hide under the covers. “I go to school with him.” She looked confused at that, so Renji added, “He got an early placement in the Guard. He’s really… special.” Renji tried not to choke on how true those last words were.

“Well, he wore you out,” she smiled, misunderstanding Renji’s mood and tone. “It’s good to see. Normally, they can’t make a dent.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Renji made his way to the door, but she caught his arm.

She pressed something into his hand.

Money.

“Well, if you ever see him again, you should thank him,” she said, still irritatingly cheerful about the whole affair. “He put you over the top. You’re finally making money for yourself.”

“Great,” Renji said, putting his wages into the kimono with a shove. “Thanks. See you tonight.”

 

#

 

Kira was asleep when Renji got back to their apartment. Despite how low he felt, Renji had a hard time sleeping. He lay on his mattress in his room, staring blankly at the cracks in the ceiling.

His touched his lips, trying to feel the phantom sensation that still lingered there at the edges. “Kiss me,” he whispered to himself, finally rolling over and closing his eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my "in-box" for a while waiting for an ending. It has one now, but it kind of sucks for both of them. I'm going to leave this as is for now (with the thought that more fic can fix them) and because, I think, ultimately this is true to Renji's character. He'd make a terrible dom. Too. Many. Feelings.
> 
> Also, I haven't see a lot of people go here with Renji, but admit it: the whip makes sense. You KNOW he'd be a natural.


End file.
